Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'
by crochetaway
Summary: A collection of drabbles from the Hermione's Haven FB group Roll-a-Drabble monthly event. All works featuring Hermione Granger in a variety of settings with a variety of partners.
1. Enough

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in January 2018. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Hermione/Neville and Time Travel. No beta other than Grammarly. Will also be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words.**

* * *

 **Enough**

* * *

 _September 2002_

"I think this one is it, Neville!" Hermione shouted as she bounded from her study to the greenhouse where Neville was repotting vervain.

"What is, 'Mione?" Neville asked distractedly as he looked up at his fiancée. He wiped the back of his hand across his brow, knowing he was getting dirt everywhere.

"This!" Hermione triumphantly held up a sheet of parchment that was littered with arithmantic equations and charts. Neville frowned, he'd never taken Arithmancy. It was all Greek to him.

"And what _is_ that?" Neville asked. He stepped around the bench to pull Hermione into a hug.

"The calculations needed to save your parents," she whispered into his chest.

Neville stopped breathing. It couldn't. She wouldn't.

"I can save them," Hermione said emphatically as she propped her chin on his chest, looking up at him with her big brown eyes.

"Okay," Neville nodded. He'd let her try and save them. But he didn't voice his skepticism.

* * *

 _October 2002_

"This feels like a bad idea," Neville told Hermione as she prepared for her trip.

"It'll be fine. It's a far jump, but I've run the calculations a thousand times. It's going to work," Hermione said as she tightened the strings on her boots. She straightened and flashed Neville a brilliant smile. "I promise. I'll see you in a jiff."

She leaned up and kissed him briefly on the mouth then stepped away. A quick turn of the Time-Turner hanging around her neck and she was gone. Neville sat down heavily in the armchair in front of the fire to wait. And wait. And wait.

Hermione showed back up about ten hours later. She promptly collapsed, and Neville rushed to her side. He cast a general diagnostic spell and could see nothing more than exhaustion, both physical and magical. He gathered her into his arms and brought her to their bedroom. He undressed her slowly, very carefully removing the Time-Turner and laid her on their bed.

Neville sighed as he watched her sleep. He was tired, but couldn't bear the thought of not being awake when Hermione woke up. So he waited.

* * *

 _November 2002_

"I've got it this time, Nev," Hermione beamed at him.

Neville swallowed the lump in his throat. She was beautiful and brilliant, but hell-bent on this idea that Neville needed his parents back. Neville didn't want to tell her that he didn't care. He should care. He knew he should care. But he'd rather just have his fiancée back.

"Are you sure?" Neville asked. He was in the greenhouse again, his happy place.

"Yep, I just needed to come up with something that would deter the Lestranges and Crouch while I get your parents out."

"Okay," Neville acquiesced. How could he tell this magnificent creature, who was spending so much time and effort to give him back his parents, that he didn't want her to? He didn't know. He shook his head. "When will you be going?"

"Tomorrow," she grinned and skipped out of the greenhouse. Neville sighed heavily.

* * *

Hermione appeared crumpled in front of him once more. Neville cradled her to him and cast a diagnostic. Exhaustion. Again.

* * *

 _December 2002_

"I swear I've got it this time," Hermione said.

"No." Neville shook his head.

"What?"

"No," Neville said more forcefully. "Enough of this."

"But—" her eyes began to tear up.

"Nothing. You're done. I'm done. I can't keep… you can't keep doing this," Neville said. He knelt before Hermione sitting in the armchair in front of the hearth. "You come back exhausted and dejected and half-dead. I don't want to lose you. It's fine."

"No! It's not fine!" Hermione shouted and tried to pull her hands away.

"Listen to me!" Neville tugged on her hands once more, getting her attention again. "You are enough, Hermione. You are. I don't need my parents if I have you. If I lose you too…" he trailed off. "I don't think I could survive that," he admitted quietly.

"Oh, Neville," Hermione sighed and buried herself in his arms, knocking him flat on his back to the floor. She cried into his chest, and Neville knew she was crying for his parents as much as hers. She'd been trying to save his parents because she'd been unable to save her own. She insisted one of them needed parents. He held her as she cried, letting her get it all out.

"I love you, Hermione," Neville murmured. "Never forget that. I love you, and you are enough."


	2. Evil Ollie

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in February 2018. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Hermione/Oliver and Forced Relationship. No beta other than Grammarly. Will also be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words.**

* * *

 **Evil Ollie**

* * *

"Why?" Hermione Granger asked as she'd asked for the fifteenth time that morning. She didn't understand it.

Oliver Wood pulled back the sleeve of his left arm, showing Hermione his Dark Mark, again.

"Does it bother you?" he asked. A cruel smirk was playing about his lips.

Hermione steeled her spine, "No."

"Good," he pushed his sleeve back down. "Because we're to be married, love."

Hermione felt her stomach roll at the thought of marrying the wizard before her. He'd once been so kind, a bit of a Quidditch nut, but kind all the same. What had happened to turn him into this cruel, cold man?

"Right, the new law?" Hermione asked even though she knew the answer.

"Mmm, yes the new law," Oliver replied, he began circling Hermione, eying her from every angle. She stood as still as possible, unsure of his intentions. They were standing in the small bedroom Hermione had been imprisoned in since the war had ended four months ago and her side had lost. She was thankful it wasn't a dungeon. She wasn't sure if it would be better to be dead, like Harry, like Ron.

"I think you'll do," Oliver said finally, coming to stand before her.

Hermione pursed her lips but didn't say anything. She'd learned to curb her sass in the last four months. Sass earned the right not to eat. Or worse, the Cruciatus Curse.

"Why?" she asked him again. Why had he become a Death Eater? What had happened?

"You ask that as though there is a deeper meaning to the world, love," Oliver tsked. "Power. And winning. I like to win at all costs. Surely you know that by now? We did attend school together after all."

"You took the Dark Mark, decided to follow an insane psychopathic megalomaniac so you could win?" Hermione asked incredulously.

Oliver smirked, "And it felt great. The winning bit."

Her lip curled in disgust. She was going to be forced to marry this wizard? To have sex with him? She shivered as a tendril of fear crept down her spine, and her flesh broke out in goosebumps.

"Just like it'll feel great when I finally win you over too." Oliver gave her a chilling smile, and Hermione closed her eyes. She couldn't look at him, and she knew she'd never get the look he'd given her out of her mind. He had looked as deranged and demented as the Dark Lord. She felt the steel in her spine sag a bit at the thought of a lifetime tied to this man.


	3. Compatibility

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in May 2018. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Hermione/Blaise, Crack!Fic, Marriage Law, and Break up. No beta other than Grammarly. Will also be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words.**

* * *

 **Compatibility**

* * *

The day I broke up with Ron Weasley was not the best day of my life. But it wasn't the worst. No, the worst came the day _after_ I broke up with Ron. Breaking up with Ron was inevitable, and if I was being honest with myself, I should have done it months ago. Before he followed me around our flat with his penis flopping about begging me to stay.

"Can you put that thing away?" I snapped at him. I was sick of looking at it, jouncing against his leg, covered in some other woman's secretions. That _other_ woman was cowering in our bedroom, a sheet wrapped around her. At least someone was still afraid of me when I was angry and had a wand in my hand.

"What? This?" Ron gyrated his hips, making his penis swing around, slapping at his thighs.

"Ew, yes," I muttered and turned back to the living room, making sure I had everything I wanted. I flipped my suitcase closed and shrank it.

"You used to like this," Ron said, suddenly too close to me. He placed his hands on my hips and humped my bum. "You used to beg for it."

"Yeah, because you were a prude who didn't want to put out," I told him and stepped away from him. I was going to have to burn these jeans now.

"Come on, 'Mione. Where will you even go?"

"Anywhere but here," I muttered and left the flat we'd shared for three years.

It didn't take me long to get to the Leaky Cauldron and pay for a room for the night. I could stay here for a few weeks until I found a new place. I sighed and climbed the stairs, ready to turn in for the night.

* * *

The day after I broke it off with Ron, the _Daily Prophet_ had a giant-sized headline splashed across the front page: MINISTRY PASSES MARRIAGE LAW!

Dear Godric above, what fresh hell was this? I quickly read through the article becoming more horrified the further along I read. Not only had the Ministry passed a marriage law, but it also went into effect immediately. All magical folk aged eighteen to thirty-five had precisely three weeks to find a partner of different blood status and marry. Failure to do so would result in fines and possibly a prison sentence.

Three weeks to find a pure-blood or half-blood to marry me? Fuck. Ron was going to be knocking on my door five minutes after he caught wind of this. How would I turn him down now? There was no way in hell I would marry him. Not when he'd cheat on me and still expect me to stay, the callous bastard.

No, this meant I had to find someone to marry before Ron tracked me down. But who?

* * *

The answer to that question found me rather abruptly. I'd just left my room to head downstairs for some breakfast when another patron left their room and bumped directly into me. Blaise Zabini. He looked good, although I wasn't sure I had seen him since sixth year.

"Granger!" Zabini shouted. Too loudly. I narrowed my eyes at him, was he drunk? It was nine in the morning.

"Just the girl I was looking for," Zabini went on, throwing his arm around my shoulders. His words slurred. He was definitely drunk.

"Yeah? What can I do for you, Zabini?"

"Marry me!"

"Right, I'm sure you have a little half-blood or something you've been dipping your wick into. Marry her." I did need to find someone to marry, but Zabini? He was a known playboy. I wouldn't marry Ron because I was sure he'd cheat. No way, would I marry Zabini. He'd cheat and then ask me to join in. I curled my lip and tossed his arm from my shoulders. Which was not good for Zabini. Apparently, I had been keeping him up, and he stumbled into the wall and slid down it.

"Shit," he muttered. "I'm too fucking pissed."

"Right, sober up and ask me again," I told him thinking there was no way he was serious.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

* * *

Three days later, Ron had finally tracked me down. Currently, he was pounding on the door to my room at the Leaky Cauldron. I had just slammed it in his face.

"Come on, 'Mione! Who else will do it?"

Rage burned hot in my chest, and I struggled not to cry. Who else would marry me, indeed? I knew Ron Weasley was a bit of an ass, but this? This was not to be born. I had just decided to whip the door open and hex the git when I heard a thump.

"Hey!" Ron shouted.

"You are disturbing my fiance. Leave," a low smooth voice responded. I pressed my ear to the door, trying to figure out who my unintentional savior was.

"Right," Ron responded and knocked on the door again. I winced as the door pounded into my temple. Bad idea, Granger.

Another thump. "That's my fiance," the smooth voice said.

"'Mione? Hey! 'Mione! Open up! Some bloke thinks you're going to marry him. Tell him you already have plans!" Ron shouted and pounded.

I whipped the door open, my wand up to see Blaise Zabini standing behind Ron with a smirk on his face.

"Tell him, 'Mione," Ron whinged.

"Ron, get it through your thick skull. I am NOT marrying you. Four days ago you were fucking some other witch in our flat. Why in Circe's name would I want to marry you?"

"Well, who else is going to marry you?" Ron asked. I could tell he wasn't truly trying to be mean, but still, the breath left my body in a whoosh. But before I could hex him, Blaise had done it already.

"The fuck?!" Ron shouted, grabbing at his arse.

"I'm marrying her, you fool," Blaise said. "Now go."

Ron threw a dirty look at me over his shoulder before limping away.

"That's news to me," I said as Blaise leaned against the door of my room and smirked at me.

"You said to come back when I was sober. Here I am." He held his arms out wide as if he was offering himself up for inspection.

I pursed my lips and considered his offer. I still had seventeen days to find someone else, but Blaise was here and offering.

"I won't tolerate cheating," I warned. "If we marry, it'll be a true marriage, with everything that involves."

Blaise's eyes widened, and his smirk deepened into a smile. "I think I can live with that."

"What if we aren't compatible?" I was suddenly uncertain of myself in front of him. He was very pretty, and I felt very plain next to him.

"Let's find out," he purred and stalked forward. Before I had time to move more than a step or two backward, he had caught me around the waist, pressing his body into mine. My breath caught in my throat at the feeling of his hard chest against my breasts. Electricity sang through my veins as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to mine. Oh, we were so compatible. I wound my arms around his neck and pulled him close. He fumbled for his wand, pointed it at the door then dropped it to the floor when the door banged shut.

We didn't make it to the bed until much, much later that day. And there we found out how good we could be together.


	4. The Right One

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in June 2018. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Dark!Hermione/Lupin and Time Travel. No beta other than Grammarly. Will also be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words.**

* * *

 **The Right One**

* * *

Hermione huffed as she finished packing her beaded bag. The war was not going well and she was being sent off on another mission. One she didn't particularly want to partake in. It would take her too far away from the one she wanted to be with. Just then, the tent-flap opened, and he joined her.

"Are you quite sure you need him?" Hermione asked as his arms slid around her waist, pulling her back to his chest.

"Yes," he hissed in her ear. "It's the only way to solidify the pack. He was the first." He planted a kiss on her neck, and Hermione tilted her head, allowing him better access.

"Then are you sure it has to be me?" she asked with a groan as he bit lightly on her throat.

He chuckled, low and deep, "Yes, it has to be you, love. I've seen the way he looks at you. He won't be able to resist."

Hermione sighed and spun in her lovers arms. She looked up into his deep blue eyes, running a hand through the dreadlocks of his hair. "If you're sure."

He dipped his head and pressed a fierce kiss to her lips. A kiss Hermione couldn't help but respond to.

"I'm sure," Fenrir Greyback murmured as he pulled away.

Hermione nodded and pulled the Time-Turner from beneath her jumper out. "Should be two turns of the big ring, right?"

"That's right, get him to my side before the end of the first war. Then he'll be panting after you in time until this war."

Hermione smirked at Fenrir and stood on her tiptoes, pressing one more kiss against his mouth. "You know I might have to sleep with him?"

"As long as you come back mine," Fenrir growled, kissing her once more.

"Always," Hermione assured him as she stepped back and spun the Time-Turner.

When the world stopped spinning around her, Hermione found herself not in a tent, but in a forest. The sun was still shining over her head, and she had the coordinates for her target's home, she just had to track him down.

A quick pop of Apparition later found Hermione staring at a small, slightly unkempt cottage. She was deep in the forest now, and there wasn't a single light coming from the cottage. She debated whether she should break in and wait for her prey then or if she should wait for him outside the cottage. Deciding that waiting inside might seem overly aggressive, Hermione resolved herself to wait outside. She hunkered down next to a tree.

"Who are you?" a gruff voice said, waking Hermione from the slumber she'd fallen into.

Shit, her target had his wand pressed to her throat.

"Please!" Hermione said. "I didn't know I was intruding. I just got lost, and my wand broke. I was exhausted. I was just going to rest for a few minutes before moving on."

The man's face softened. "Death Eater's?"

Hermione nodded quickly, feigning tears. "They attacked my home. Killed every—" she broke off in a sob and was delighted when her target lowered his wand entirely and began helping her to stand.

She smiled at him gratefully, and he put an arm around her waist to guide her to his cottage. Hermione had known he was a big softie, but even for him, this was a bit dense. He settled her on his sofa and began bustling in the kitchen area rummaging for tea.

"I'm Remus Lupin," he said when he set the tray of steaming tea down on the table before her.

"Hermione Wolfe," Hermione said, giving him a fake last name. She wasn't surprised when he flinched slightly. This was going to be easier than she thought. Fenrir was right, Lupin was a lonely man, and with the right amount of pressure, Hermione was sure she could turn him to Fenrir's side. To the Dark Lord's side.


	5. Empire

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in July 2018. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Dark!Hermione/Draco/Adrian and Threesome. No beta other than Grammarly. Will also be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words.**

* * *

 **Empire**

* * *

They took everything from her. Everything. Harry was dead. Ron was dead. Her parents were dead. Voldemort was dead. At least Voldemort deserved to die. The only one in a long line of deaths who actually deserved it. And what was Hermione left with when it was all over, and the dust began to settle?

Nothing.

She was left with nothing.

She was left with less than nothing. She didn't want to be feted as the only surviving member of the 'Golden Trio.' So they didn't fete her. They did something worse. They ignored her. They ignored the reasons that Voldemort was able to take over the wizarding world. They ignored the rot. They ignored the pureblood mania. They ignored everything and went right back to the status quo.

Arthur and Percy encouraged her to go work for the Ministry. Shacklebolt rubbed his hands together in glee at the thought. Hermione turned down their offer. She was not going to watch this world that she had fought so hard for a return to stagnation. Molly and Minerva encouraged her to go to St Mungo's, to become a healer. Hermione turned down their offer. She was not going to bury her head in the sand as the new regime followed in the old regimes footsteps.

No, Hermione Granger had a plan. Nobody else was fit to rule the wizarding world. Everyone else wanted things just to go back to normal. Was it normal to have purebloods all hold the highest and best positions in the Ministry? Was it normal that Muggleborns and half-bloods all ended up in either dead-end Ministry jobs or as shopkeepers? Was it normal for a Muggleborn child to be bullied and teased for not knowing about the wizarding world? It was not. Not in Hermione's opinion.

The wizarding world was full of sheep. They followed along blindly. The blind leading the blind until someone stronger came along. And even then, they didn't recognize Voldemort for what he was until it was much too late. Twice. Hermione snorted at that thought. They allowed Voldemort to take over twice. It was inconceivable how stupid the wizarding world was.

But stupidity would be the lynchpin to Hermione's entire plan. Stupidity and the two men standing before her now. One was a powerful pureblood scion of the wealthiest house in wizarding Britain. The other, a star solicitor for the Ministry who knew the ins and outs of every law the Wizengamot had ever passed in its five hundred year history.

"An Unbreakable Vow, my lady," Draco Malfoy said. "I would swear whatever you wished to follow you."

"Same," Adrian Pucey drawled.

The heat in their eyes inflamed Hermione's own lusts. But she couldn't think of those things yet. First, she had to secure her alliances. Then they could quench each other's thirsts.

"Anything?" She lifted an eyebrow as she sat upon the throne-like chair Draco had led her to.

"Anything," Draco whispered and fell to his knees before her.

"Bond us," Hermione commanded as she reached out her right hand and grasped Draco's right forearm.

Adrian stepped forward his wand at the ready.

"Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, swear your undying loyalty and allegiance to me, Hermione Jean Granger? To always follow my orders and obey my every command?"

"I do so swear." Adrian tapped his wand on their wrists, and a ribbon of bright white magic shot out of the end of his wand and wrapped tightly around their clasped hands.

"And do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, swear to do whatever you can in your power to put me, Hermione Jean Granger, on the throne of wizarding Britain?"

"I do so swear." Adrian tapped his wand again, and another bright white ribbon wrapped itself around their wrists.

"And do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, swear to uphold any and all laws that I, Hermione Jean Granger, put in place as I see fit?"

"I do so swear." Another tap of Adrian's wand and another ribbon of white wound itself around their wrists. A final tap and the magic sank into their skin. It set the low pulse of arousal in Hermione's core aflame.

"My turn," Adrian turned to her with a grin.

"Bond us," Hermione said to Draco, her eyes never leaving Adrian's.

She made the same bond with Adrian that she did with Draco. Her alliances were secured.

"Fucking finally," Draco groaned and pulled her up from her throne-like chair and into his embrace. He crashed his lips against hers and devoured her mouth as a starving man devours his food. Adrian stepped behind her, his large hands settling heavily on her hips and his lips descending to her neck and shoulder.

Her alliance was secured, and as soon as their lust had been sated, she would begin her campaign for her empire.


	6. The Potions Accident

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in August 2018. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Hermione/Luna and a potions accident. No beta other than Grammarly. Will also be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words.**

* * *

 **The Potions Accident**

* * *

"Uh, Hermione?" Luna called out from the basement potions lab of their home. She was covered in a thick orange slime and it was starting to tingle. Her wand was halfway across the room and the sludge was making it difficult to move. She'd been experimenting with billywig's, in an attempt to create a potion that would attract the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Needless to say, her results did not work.

"Luna? Are you down there?" Hermione shouted from the top of the stairs.

"Oh, thank Circe," Luna muttered. "Yes! Please, can you come down to help? I've had a bit of an accident, you see…" she trailed off as the slime thickened again, holding her quite firmly in place. A large drop slid down her cheek before hardening. She really hoped this was something Hermione could deal with and she wouldn't have to take yet another trip to St Mungo's. She'd been twice already this month.

Hermione shuffled down the stairs and Luna knew that meant she was elbow deep in some obscure text, still reading it, despite traversing across the house and down the rickety steps to the cellar.

"Hermione," Luna said sharply. More sharply than she usually spoke, but it was the tone that always seemed to snap Hermione out of whatever her head was currently stuck in. And right now, Luna's feet were fixed quite firmly to the floor. She was going to need some assistance sooner rather than later.

"Oh, Merlin!" Hermione exclaimed finally reaching the bottom of the stairs and glancing up from the massive tome in her hands. She hastily set the book on the stairs behind her and rushed forward.

"Don't touch it!" Luna warned. "It looks fluffy, but it hardens rather quickly. I'm afraid I am very stuck."

"Cripes," Hermione muttered and pulled out her wand. "What ingredients?"

"Billywig's mostly, a little nightshade, and some aconite."

"Hmm," Hermione thought as she poked at a large blob on Luna's shoulder. It was balanced precariously, and when Hermione's wand disturbed it, it fell off and hung from the back of Luna's robes.

"Also, heavy when dried," Luna groaned.

"Right," Hermione nodded. " _Evanesco_!" The blob hanging from Luna's shoulder disappeared. As did the clothes beneath it.

Luna shrugged, "I have a hair regrowth potion on the shelf."

Hermione nodded and set to work, vanishing every bit of orange sludge she could find. It wasn't long and Luna was entirely nude and half bald. Hermione turned from her, but Luna heard the giggle.

"I'm sure I look a fright," Luna said as she reached for the hair regrowth potion. She'd had plenty of potions accidents in her life, so it was a potion she usually kept in stock for occasions such as this. A quick swig of the potion and a warmth from her scalp and her long blonde hair was back. Hermione turned just in time to see the finished product.

"Eh?" Luna asked, giving a small turn.

"Gorgeous," Hermione smiled and pulled Luna into her arms.

"You too," Luna muttered as Hermione leaned in to kiss her. Kissing Hermione always set off a race in Luna's heart. It thumped loudly as she tangled her hands in Hermione's hair, holding her wife tightly. "Too many clothes," Luna muttered when Hermione pulled away and began kissing along Luna's jaw.

Hermione nodded and a flick of her wand and she was naked too. Luna moaned at the feeling of Hermione's skin on hers. So smooth, so soft. Luna trailed her hands down Hermione's back as she lost herself in her witch's body. Hermione was always there to soothe away the sting of a potions accident.


	7. Anima Coniugi

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in September 2018. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Hermione/Lucius and Soulmates. No beta other than Grammarly. Will also be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words.**

* * *

 **Anima Coniugi**

* * *

The soulmate spell wasn't supposed to go like this. She was certainly no longer in the library at Grimmauld Place anymore. She would have to figure out where she was and hopefully get out of wherever it was without being noticed. Currently, she was in some sort of wardrobe. She could dimly see some robes hanging in front of her. It smelled fresh, so she was hopeful she wasn't in a moldy attic somewhere. She was just about to start pushing at walls, hoping one of them was a door when she heard a noise from outside the wardrobe.

A door opened nearby and suddenly she could hear heavy footsteps on the hardwood. _Crap_ , Hermione thought as she shrank back to what she thought must be the back of the wardrobe. She hoped whoever it was that they wouldn't be opening the wardrobe anytime soon. The soulmate spell was supposed to take you to your soulmate. It would then light up your soulmate in a soft blue glow. Hermione should have spied Ron across the library. Obviously, she'd done the spell wrong to have ended up somewhere else.

 _Or Ron isn't your soulmate_ , a voice whispered in Hermione's mind. She shook her head. Of course, Ron was her soulmate. She loved him! So clearly, it was a case of having performed the spell incorrectly. Or perhaps the spell didn't work? She and Ginny had found it in a dusty, old volume in the library at Grimmauld Place. Who knew if it was even a reputable spell?

Just then the door behind Hermione opened. She'd been leaning on it and promptly fell out onto her arse. Lucius Malfoy stood over her, glowing a soft blue.

"Fuck," Hermione muttered and closed her eyes.

"Really, Miss Granger. You come into my home unannounced and then proceed to curse at me?" Malfoy drawled.

"My apologies, Mr Malfoy," Hermione said as she made to stand. Malfoy surprisingly enough reached a hand out to steady her elbow. Hermione nodded her thanks and brushed at the seat of her trousers. "I'm afraid I've made a mistake."

"Would that mistake have anything to do with why I'm glowing blue?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione's eyes widened. The book hadn't said that other people or the soulmate themselves would be able to see the glow, just that the caster of the spell would. Perhaps the spell did work. She looked up at Malfoy, considering him. He was old, true, but not that old. And he still looked good for his age with a flat stomach and broad shoulders.

"Please don't tell me you did the _Anima Coniugi_ spell?" Malfoy sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Er… I won't then," Hermione replied.

"Fuck," Malfoy muttered.

"Indeed."


	8. Cornered

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Prompt Competition. This one is quite a bit longer than a drabble at almost 3000 words! It was Admin Award winner in the Best Angst category. My Roll-a-Prompt prompts were: Hermione/Abraxas Malfoy and Time Travel. Thanks to brownlark42 and** **RachaelLA26** **for their alpha/beta services on this piece.**

* * *

 **Cornered**

* * *

When I landed, it wasn't smoothly on my feet but hard onto my hands and knees, scraping my hands—and probably my knees too, although it didn't feel like the fabric in my robes had torn. Small mercies. The landing was rough, more like a portkey than a Time-Turner and I wondered what that meant. Had I transported through space as well as time? A glance at my right hand, palm still pressed to the earth beneath me confirmed my suspicion that wherever I was, I wasn't getting back home anytime soon.

"Excuse me, can I help you miss?" a smooth, deep, cultured voice asked me. I closed my eyes, trying to decide if I knew that voice.

"Are you alright?" the voice asked again, this time closer. I finally looked up from where I knelt and found two men standing about ten paces away from me. One was blond and gorgeous—angelic almost. His hair hung about his shoulders and he had a strong build with wide shoulders and stood a few inches taller than his companion. The companion had dark, wavy hair, and a square jaw that begged to be kissed. The blond looked concerned; the brunet had no expression on his face. Neither looked all that familiar, although the blond reminded me of Draco in some ways. I shook my head; I couldn't think about Draco or anyone else at home. I needed to keep a clear head or a situation like this could get me killed.

I made to stand up and, instantly, both men were at my side, each grasping an arm and helping me to my feet.

"Thanks," I muttered and winced as I got a look at my bloodied hands.

"Tsk," the blond said and whipped out his wand. A tap to each and my hands were healed and cleaned.

"Thank you…" I trailed off, hopefully prompting him to give me a name, and looking up to meet his eyes. He had the prettiest light blue eyes, like the sun glinting off the ocean and I felt like I could look into them for days.

"Abraxas Malfoy," he replied with a broad grin. I couldn't help but smile back at him even as my heart sank in my chest. Abraxas was Draco's grandfather. He looked to be about my age; mid-twenties. That meant I had traveled back in time more than fifty years. My head hurt at the realization. There may be no way for me to return home to my time… I shut that line of thinking down. Not only was it unproductive, but I needed to keep my wits about me. I needed to avoid changing the past. Changing the past could very well change or erase Draco's life entirely and I wasn't willing to do that. Harry would kill me if I got his boyfriend erased.

"Hermione Evans," I said, reminding myself to thank Harry at some point for the use of his mother's maiden name.

"Tom Riddle," said the dark-haired man and my chest suddenly hurt so badly that I was sure my heart had stopped beating. How did this happen? How did I end up here? With these two men? "Evans… that doesn't sound like a family I know."

"Yes, my family came here from the States several years back," I lied on the spot. "I seem to have had a bit of a portkey accident. Where exactly am I?"

"Wiltshire, Malfoy Manor," Abraxas replied with a smile. "This is my home. Where were you intending to go?"

"Oh dear, I was supposed to land in Diagon Alley," I fretted. Not only was I fifty odd years in the past, but I had also traveled more than ninety miles west of where I had originated.

"Where's the portkey?" Tom asked, glancing down on the impeccably manicured lawn.

"I don't see it… it was an old umbrella." I felt like I was getting better at lying. "Perhaps I dropped it in transport and landed here instead of where I should have." I patted my pockets and felt relief when I found my backup wand. My original had been on my desk in the Department of Mysteries, of course. If I learned anything from my time as an Unspeakable in the time room, attempting to recreate the Time-Turners, it was to always carry a backup wand. I usually carried a backup Time-Turner as well, but I had been working on my backup when something malfunctioned and dropped me off here.

"Well, I think we should escort you to London then, shall we Tom?" Abraxas stated. It wasn't a question, not to me anyway. I sighed quietly and realized I was going to have to get used to that sort of _chivalrous_ attitude if I was going to be stuck here for any length of time.

"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you," I said before Tom had a chance to respond to Abraxas. Both men looked slightly taken aback at my boldness and I couldn't help the smirk from forming on my face. Harry had once told me that I had a smirk to rival Draco's, and I let it unleash now. I may be stuck in the 1950's, but I certainly wasn't going to act like a 1950's witch.

"Or perhaps a refreshment would be in order, Abraxas?" Tom asked as he narrowed his eyes at me.

I instantly felt wary. Having a drink with either of these men didn't seem like a good idea, but at the same time I felt a small thrill zing in my veins. The same darkness that lured me to date Draco's friends lurked in both of these men. It called to me. I would have to be very careful. If the Slytherins of my time were dark, Abraxas and Tom were certainly darker, especially Tom. Depending on the year, he'd killed at least two perhaps as many as four people already. And Abraxas Malfoy had been a founding member of the Knights of Walpurgis.

"Yes," Abraxas agreed, his grin turned sly. "Let's go up to the Manor for a refreshment, Miss Evans." I wanted to go to London, to return to the Ministry and the Department of Mysteries. We had procedures in place that went back decades for instances like this, but soon Tom and Abraxas were leading me along and I couldn't help but follow them. I suppose I could have put up a bigger fuss, but where would that have gotten me? I needed to be inconspicuous in this time. I didn't want Draco's grandfather to remember me, to tell a story about me to Draco as a child. Just the thought of it sent a shiver down my spine and Abraxas turned to me once more.

"Are you chilled? We should get you inside." He shrugged off his outer robe and placed it around my shoulders. His intoxicating scent wafted up around me and made my steps falter. I feared I wasn't doing any favors for myself, playing up the weak witch, but the whole situation had me off balance.

Tom tightened his grip on my arm and Abraxas grew bold enough to wrap one arm around my waist. I stiffened at his touch, but as we walked, found my body leaning toward his. _Inappropriate!_ A voice hissed in my head. That voice was right, it was inappropriate. I needed to get out of Wiltshire and back to London immediately.

"I should be going," I said demurely, trying to pull away from the two men. "If you could show me past your anti-Apparition wards…"

"Oh, so soon?" Tom crooned. I cringed. They were definitely up to something and I suddenly didn't feel very safe.

"You're unsteady on your feet, Miss Evans," Abraxas reminded me. "Let's just have that refreshment so you can rest for a moment. Then I'll help you Floo to the Leaky Cauldron, alright?"

I wanted to argue, but the idea of making any sort of impression on either man scared the shit out of me. I nodded and allowed Abraxas to lead me into the house.

We entered through a patio door and into a large conservatory. Abraxas weaved us in and out of the rows of plants and out of the warm room into the rest of the house. I hadn't been to Malfoy Manor since Easter of 1998 and I shivered as we walked through the corridors. Abraxas led us through a maze of rooms. I knew there was going to be no escaping this place without an escort. My fear ratcheted up several notches at the realization.

Several moments later, Abraxas finally opened a door and gestured me inside. Tentatively, I stepped past him to take in the small study he had guided us to. There was a lit fireplace along one wall with a small seating area in front of it. The other wall held a large desk and the interior walls all held bookshelves, filled to the brim with books. I was still a bookworm, but my worst impulses had mellowed with age. I would love the time to explore the books in this room, but my fingers didn't itch for it as they would have once.

Abraxas guided me over to a small settee as Tom went to the drinks cart. I was wary of having Tom prepare me a drink, and I didn't care for it, but I also felt trapped by these two wizards. I could probably take them both on and maybe I'd defeat them, but who was to say they were the only two in the house? And even if they were, I'd waste precious time trying to find my way back out of the house and past the anti-Apparition wards. My choices weren't great, but this felt like the one that would get me out the quickest, safest, and without making too much of an impression on either of these wizards.

I should have known better.

I took a sip of the drink Tom handed me and my world went black.

* * *

"... I still can't believe you drugged her," Abraxas snapped. I could feel that I was being moved somewhere, but kept my body as limp as possible. I didn't want them to know that I was awake.

"It's effective," Tom replied. I could _hear_ the shrug in his voice. I wanted to slap him. _You didn't just drug a witch,_ I fumed to myself.

"You can't drug witches, Tom! It just isn't done," Abraxas complained, echoing my thoughts. I was set onto something very soft and large, a bed, I think, but I kept my eyes closed, trying to figure out a way out of this mess. I should have fought them in the garden when I landed. I was stupid for going along as much as I had, but I didn't think I had better options. I took a slow, deep breath as Tom and Abraxas bickered in the background. I needed to get out.

I wasn't sure of the relationship between Abraxas and Tom. I would have expected Abraxas to call Tom some variation of 'my lord' or perhaps Lord Voldemort, but he didn't. He addressed him as Tom, almost as if they were equals and I wondered if they truly were equals. Then I heard something that not only chilled me to the bone, but decided my loyalties then and there.

"I won't let you do to her, like you did to that girl from Knockturn last month," Abraxas hissed. "This isn't that type of girl! Did you see her clothes? She's from a good family."

Tom scoffed. "That girl loved it, Abraxas."

"Until she wound up dead," Abraxas hissed. "There might be someone waiting for her back in London."

"Well, I drugged her, so she can't leave now. Perhaps in a few weeks."

"Weeks?! Tom! That is unaccep—"

" _Crucio_ ," Tom hissed. I could hear Abraxas' body writhing on the floor. I know I cringed and was just thankful that Tom's focus was on Abraxas and not me.

"Remember who your betters are, Abraxas," Tom said coldly. It was a voice so infused with ice that it felt like the entire room dropped by at least ten degrees. I shivered, but tried to control my reactions so Tom wouldn't notice. I needed his focus to stay on Abraxas. I should feel bad about that, but Abraxas had made his choices. I needed to figure out the right choices that would get me out of Malfoy Manor, back to London and, hopefully, back to the twenty-first century.

There was some rustling and the door slammed closed. I hoped that meant they had both left, but a low groan from the floor, alerted me to the fact that just Tom had left. I slowly opened one eye to ensure it was just me and Abraxas. It was.

I sat up quickly and moved across the room to Abraxas, examining him for injuries.

"Is he always like that?" I asked softly.

Abraxas groaned and nodded, closing his eyes. He was as fair as Draco and as bad at hiding his embarrassment. Two pink spots appeared high on his cheeks and I acted like I couldn't see them as I helped him to his feet.

There wasn't any other furniture in the bedroom, so I helped him over to the bed. Abraxas sat on it heavily as I settled myself next to him. "How much did you hear?"

I stiffened, but Abraxas placed a hand on my back, running it up and down in a long, soothing stroke. I couldn't believe a man who had just been tortured, not ten minutes ago, was now comforting me. It was absurd but not unappreciated.

"You were right. There are people expecting me in London," I said simply.

Abraxas sighed. "I'll see what I can do."

I nodded and Abraxas stood and left me alone. I tried the door, but it was locked. As were the windows. My wand was gone from its hiding place. I was well and truly screwed.

* * *

The next time the door opened, Abraxas came in bearing a trolley of food. I was thankful they at least planned to feed me and nervous about the route I had decided to go down while being kept captive. I knew I could be combative and ask every question I was dying to ask, but I also knew that wouldn't get me anywhere. I had learned a few things from the Slytherins I had dated, and I planned to employ them all.

To that end, I'd taken off my outer robe, my inner robe, and my work dress until I was just in my slip. It wasn't the most flattering piece of clothing I had, but I figured it would get the job done. The moment the door opened, I stood from the bed and moved toward Abraxas in what I was hoping was a sultry sort of walk. I must have succeeded, based on the way Abraxas was eyeing my hips. It helped my confidence.

"Abraxas," I breathed as I stepped closer to him, running a hand along his chest. He was quite a bit taller than me, and much broader than my last boyfriend.

"Miss Evans," Abraxas smiled at me. He glanced over his shoulder, as if he expected someone to be there, but Tom was nowhere to be found. I couldn't figure out what Tom's game was. Why drug me and then leave me for hours at a time? Surely, Abraxas had told him I was awake? Was it just some sort of psychological game? I didn't know, but I couldn't wait around to figure it out, especially knowing that the last girl Tom captured wound up dead. My only hope was Abraxas.

"Please, you can call me Hermione," I breathed, sticking out my tongue to wet my bottom lip. Then I drew the lip into my mouth, between my teeth in a move that I knew drove most men batty. Abraxas' eyes darkened and I knew it worked for him too as he stepped away from the trolley and toward me. I smirked at him and backed ever so slightly toward the bed. Abraxas followed.

Just before I reached the bed, I touched him again, running my hands down his chest. I had to keep in mind that this was just a game, a dangerous game, but a game nonetheless. This wasn't real; and while I could enjoy it, I knew that I shouldn't. There was a line and I knew I was leaping across it with my next move. I figured that it was either that or I die at the hands of Tom Riddle—and I was unwilling to let that happen.

I kissed Abraxas. Whatever I felt in my last relationship was miniscule compared to the fire that ignited in my veins when kissing Abraxas. I didn't know if that was because of the forbidden fruit aspect or if we had more chemistry. I shoved thoughts of the future aside as Abraxas trailed a hand down my side. It made me shiver and I knew I was not only going to have to stay present and in the moment to avoid thinking about the future, but also so that I could hopefully take advantage of Abraxas' post-coital state. It was a dirty move, but I felt I had no other choice.

I took Abraxas to bed.

* * *

Months later when I was still stuck in the past I didn't regret my choice in Abraxas. Tom was dead. I had been successful in wooing Abraxas to my side. The white wedding robes I was wearing were beautiful even though I still felt like a fraud. It didn't matter. I felt strong. I felt powerful and dark, in a way I'd always wanted. I was about to become Mrs Malfoy. My future was here.


	9. Heat

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in October 2018. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Hermione/Viktor and huddling for warmth. No beta other than Grammarly. Will also be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words. This one is a Muggle AU. Find me on tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

* * *

 **Heat**

* * *

"Fuck, again?" Hermione groaned as she banged the radiator in her flat. It rattled, spat, and fell silent. She could practically feel the cold seep through the holes and cracks in her dilapidated home. This was the third time this winter that the heat had stopped working. Her landlord was more of a slumlord and didn't respond to anything except complaints from the city housing council. The problem with the city housing council? Hermione could only reach them during business hours during the week. It just turned six in the evening on a Friday. She'd be without heat all weekend. And Monday was a bank holiday. And even then, it may take her landlord Giles Robinson a week or more to finally getting around to fix the heat. Maybe she should start saving to move somewhere else.

Hermione huffed a breath and stood from her spot next to the radiator in the sitting room. It was the biggest room in the flat, so she gathered all of the blankets and pillows she could find and dragged them back to her bedroom. It looked like she'd be living out of her bedroom this weekend. Perhaps she could run to the store and find a couple of cans of soup on sale.

She dug through her purse and came up with four quid. It might be enough to get her two or three cans. That would be enough to last the weekend right? She found the paper she'd pilfered from her boss's trashcan that morning and checked the forecast. Below zero and snow expected. Well, however many of cans of soup it would buy, it would have to be enough.

On her way back from the shops, Hermione ran into her downstairs neighbor, Viktor Krum. He was devastatingly handsome, and Hermione always felt tongue-tied around him. He was way out of her league, whatever Ginny had to say about it.

"Hermione," Viktor said in his light Bulgarian accent.

"Viktor, hi. How are you?"

"Cold," Viktor said sardonically. "Heat's out again. Did you hear?"

"I know," Hermione sighed. "I've left a message with both Robinson and the housing council, but it's Friday, so…" she shrugged her shoulders as she trailed off.

"Right," Viktor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Hermione watched as his muscles bunched beneath his shirt. His sweatshirt rode up his flat, impeccable abs as he raised his arm and Hermione found herself biting her lip at that delicious peek of his smooth, warm skin.

"Hermione?" Viktor said.

Hermione flushed and looked up to see him smirking at her. He leaned against the doorway of his flat, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Er, I should go," Hermione said. Holding up her bag from the grocer's. "Need to put these away."

"Sure," Viktor nodded to her and smiled. Hermione hurried up the stairs cursing herself. It was bad enough she had a tiny, eensy, little crush on Viktor, and now he seemed to know about it. God, she was an idiot.

* * *

Several hours later, Hermione had finished one meager can of soup and was still hungry when there was a knock on her front door. She was surprised to see Viktor standing there.

"Hi," Hermione greeted him. What was he doing here?

"Sorry to impose," Viktor shivered, even through his winter coat, Hermione could see he was cold. "But I was sort of hoping I could come in? It's at least five degrees warmer up here."

"Oh! Um, sure, I guess," Hermione said, opening the door wider for him. "I'm er, in the bedroom actually, it's smaller, and I can keep the door closed."

"I brought a portable heater," Viktor offered, showing the small appliance to Hermione. She looked at it enviously, she'd wanted one, but didn't want to even know what that would turn her electric bill into. She'd deal with it if Viktor would share it with her, even for just a few hours tonight.

"God, yes, come in then," Hermione ushered him inside and down the hall to her bedroom. She had covered the window with one of her heaviest quilts.

Her and Viktor sat next to each other on her double bed after he plugged in the space heater, both holding their hands out over the small amount of heat the appliance gave off.

"Oh, that's wonderful," Hermione hummed.

"Can't believe you don't have one," Viktor muttered.

Hermione snorted. "Can't afford the electric bill on it."

Viktor nodded and didn't say anything more.

After a few moments, Hermione dug out the book she'd been reading, offering Viktor a selection from her tiny library. Viktor chose a detective novel Hermione's dad had given her years ago and they sat in companionable silence for a while.

An hour or so later, Hermione felt herself nodding off, her head fell onto Viktor's shoulder.

"God, sorry," Hermione yawned.

"It's alright. Why don't you lie down?" Viktor suggested.

"Are you sure? I can stay up a little longer."

"No. You're tired, lie down for a bit," Viktor insisted.

"Alright." Hermione took off her parka and dressed in only her sweats, she curled up on the far side of the bed, under her comforter and a thick knitted blanket.

* * *

Viktor must have fallen asleep at some point because when Hermione woke up in the middle of the night she was hot. She pushed one of the blankets off her and fell back asleep.

The second time she woke up, it wasn't quite the heat or lack thereof that woke her. A hand had crept around her middle, underneath her sweatshirt, smoothing along the skin of her stomach.

Hermione held her breath as it reached higher and higher, skating along the curve of her breast.

"Viktor?" she whispered.

Either Viktor was asleep, or a good actor. He snatched his hand away. "Oh God, I'm so sorry Hermione. I didn't mean to—"

"It's alright," Hermione assured him. Then she bit her lip. "I kind of liked it."

"Really?" Viktor asked in disbelief.

Hermione turned to face him in the dim light of the room. She nodded. "Yeah, it felt nice."

Tentatively, Viktor reached a hand back out and slid it under her sweatshirt. Hermione gasped at the feeling of his hot skin pressed to hers and arched her back, encouraging him to reach his hand higher. Viktor slid his hand up her stomach and cupped one of her breasts. Hermione grabbed onto his arm in appreciation when he thumbed her nipple.

"Feels good," she panted. And then Viktor's lips were on hers, slanting across her mouth and plundering his tongue inside. He was a phenomenal kisser and Hermione pulled at him until he was lying on top of her.

"God, don't stop," Hermione muttered as Viktor began kissing down the side of her neck. If this was what her weekend of no heat had in store for her, Hermione thought she might have to write her landlord a thank you note.


	10. The Wedding Date

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in January 2019. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Hermione/Fred and fake dating. No beta other than Grammarly. I will be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words. Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

* * *

 **The Wedding Date**

* * *

"This is ridiculous." Hermione was barely able to speak for laughing. What Fred had proposed was so hilarious she felt like she could barely breathe.

"What's ridiculous about it?" Fred wiggled his eyebrows at her. He propped his elbows onto the worktop and leaned toward her.

"Nobody would ever believe we're dating!" Hermione protested and pushed back from the worktop. She wrinkled her nose even as another giggle slipped out.

Fred frowned at her and Hermione suddenly worried that she had offended him.

"Not good enough for you, Granger?" Fred asked. Hermione definitely heard the bravado barely covering the hurt.

"It's not that, Fred," Hermione insisted. "It's just. Ron's getting _married_. I'm not going to show up at his wedding on the arm of his brother." The conversation had suddenly taken a serious tone.

"Bloody wanker never deserved you," Fred grouched.

Hermione snorted, unable to help herself as she stood, pushing her stool out of the way.

"Fred," Hermione pleaded with him as she walked around the worktop. He'd slumped down onto the worktop, burying his head into his arms. She slung her arm around his shoulders. "What's this really about?"

"I just think you deserved better than _him_ ," Fred mumbled.

" _I'm_ not marrying Ron this weekend, you know that right?" Hermione asked.

"Of course, I know that. Bloody Romilda has been hanging around the Burrow for months. Annoying git."

"Explain it to me," Hermione said. "Because I still don't understand."

Fred snorted, finally looking up from his arms. "Go with me to Ron's wedding."

"Are we still 'fake' dating?" Hermione asked.

"You tell me?" Fred breathed. He stood and Hermione felt dwarfed suddenly. He was so much taller than her. Her eyes bounced between his warm brown ones and his suddenly, kissable looking lips.

Hermione smirked at him, and grasped the front of his robes, pulling him to her and planting her lips on his. She could feel his grin as he wrapped an arm around her waist; the other hand cupping her chin, directing their kiss.

"No need to fake it anymore," Hermione whispered.

"Good," Fred murmured, slanting his lips over hers once more.


	11. WiPP

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in February 2019. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Hermione/Marcus and Marriage LAw. No beta other than Grammarly. I will be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words. Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

* * *

 **WiPP**

* * *

Marcus Flint stared glumly at the piece of parchment in front of him. How had this even happened? He narrowed his eyes at the parchment as if glaring at it would give him the answers he was searching for. None were forthcoming. He read the whole thing again, just to make sure it said what he thought it did.

 _Dear Marcus Tiberius Flint,_

 _Congratulations! You have been matched in the Ministry of Magic's Wizarding Perpetuity Program! You'll find all the details of the law on pages two through seven (2-7) paragraphs A through P._

 _You were matched with:_

 _Hermione Jean Granger_

 _Please arrange a time to speak with your intended within the next week. A marriage is expected to be performed between you within sixty (60) days of receiving this notice._

 _As a reminder failure to comply with the Wizarding Perpetuity Program will result in your expulsion from the wizarding world including the snapping of your wand and a thorough Obliviation._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Wendella Bridgeport_

 _Junior Minister of the Department of Marriages, Births, and Deaths_

It said the same thing it did a moment ago. What was this tosh about a Wizarding Perpetuity Program? And marriage? How could _he_ marry Hermione Granger? How was any of this possible?

He wasn't as stupid as most made him out to be, he knew who Hermione Granger was and there was no way she would consent to be alone in the same room with him, let alone marry him. He crumpled the parchment, without reading the bits about the requirements of the law and tossed it into his rubbish bin. It had to be a joke. He stood up and left the room, grabbing his broom on the way, he was going to be late to practice if he didn't hurry.

Unbeknownst to Marcus, the parchment unfolded itself and flew across the room to land on his desk once again.

* * *

Marcus was dead tired when he returned from practice, he flew directly to the front door of his apartment building, removing he Disillusionment Charm the moment he landed and ascertained no Muggles were about. He'd worked himself hard, trying to forget about that bit of parchment he'd thrown away earlier. Marcus took the four flights of stairs up to his flat. He lived in Portree, preferring to live close to his team training facility rather than the ancestral manor home in the South of Wales. He hated that place.

He stopped short when he spotted Granger leaning against his door, waiting for him. The very witch that had been on his mind the majority of the day was now standing before him. She was in fashionable work robes that showed off her figure and Marcus swallowed hard.

"Hello," she said. She sounded pleasant enough, but Marcus was still wary. She was a war hero, venerated in their society while he played for a Quidditch team that barely broke the halfway mark on the ladder each season. Why was she here?

"Hullo," Marcus replied sullenly. He could barely meet her eye and dropped his gaze to the floor. Any moment she would begin berating him for something that he knew wasn't his fault, but who could blame her? Why would she want to be stuck with him for the rest of her life? Nobody in their right mind would want that.

"Can we go inside...maybe talk a bit?" she asked. Her voice was soft and Marcus thought maybe she sounded nervous. He chanced a glance up to her face to see she was biting her bottom lip. Heat suffused him and he looked away quickly again. He nodded and approached the door. She stepped aside and he unlocked it with a flick of his wand.

He walked through the door briskly, sending his broom off to where it belonged with a flick of his wand as he headed toward the kitchen.

"Tea?" he mumbled, not caring whether she actually responded or not.

"Sure," she said. "I can make it though. It looks like you just came from practice. Would you want to shower before we talk?"

Marcus whirled around and glared at her. Why was she being so nice? The truth was, he _did_ want to shower. It was his ritual to come home from practice and have a shower and a wank. He clenched his jaw, no way was he going to be able to relax enough to have a wank with her in his flat.

"Tea things are above the cooker," Marcus grunted. He edged around her and headed for the bathroom. He didn't understand what was going on and hoped that she would explain herself once they sat down to have a cuppa.

He rushed through his shower and was back out in the sitting room in record time. Granger already had the tea tray set up on the coffee table and was pouring for them both. He settled next to her uneasily on the sofa, the only other piece of furniture in the room. She looked at him with a question in her eyes.

"Splash of milk and a lump," Marcus said. She added the milk and sugar and gave the cup a delicate stir before handing it to him.

After fixing her own, she leaned back into the sofa and sipped her tea. She smiled faintly, before settling the cup in her lap and piercing him with her frank gaze. He looked away, sipping his own tea.

After several long moments where Marcus could feel her watching him and he refused to look at her, he finally spoke. "Why are you here?"

"Didn't you get the announcement about the whip?" Granger asked.

"The what?" Marcus asked, eyes widening.

"The WiPP, the Wizarding Perpetuity Program,"

Marcus grunted, he hated all the acronyms thrown around by the Ministry. "I was hoping that was a prank."

Granger laughed, a tinkling sound that Marcus thought was rather pleasant.

"If only," she said after a moment. "No, it's quite real."

"Doesn't explain why you are here," Marcus said. He finished his tea and set the cup on the coffee table. Immediately he wished he still had something to fiddle with or a reason to not look at her.

"More?" Granger asked, leaning forward.

Marcus shook his head.

Granger sighed and leaned back again. Marcus could smell the faint scent of her perfume, orange blossoms, vanilla, and something he couldn't quite place. It was lovely.

"I'm here because we've been matched, Marcus," Granger said after a long moment. "I was hoping we could come to an arrangement and pick a date to hold the wedding."

"Why aren't you trying to get out of this?" Marcus asked. Suddenly he was angry. "Why would you want to marry _me_? You're a war hero, go use your influence to get out of this and leave me alone."

"Marcus," Hermione said placing her hand on his arm. He flinched but didn't remove her hand from him. It was warm and felt rather nice. "I have to follow the law, same as everyone else. The truth is, I was part of the reason the law was created in the first place."

"What do you mean?" Marcus asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

Granger sighed. "I am an Arithmancer for the Ministry. About a year and a half ago I was asked to look at population numbers and when we realized that without some sort of drastic policy change, we were going to go extinct in a few hundred years, well the Wizarding Perpetuity Program came into being."

"But surely you could find someone else," Marcus said. "Someone more worthy of you and your fame. Someone more Gryffindor."

Granger laughed again and this time Marcus wondered if she was laughing at him. Because he was stupid. He hunched his shoulders and half turned away from her.

"Oh, Merlin, Marcus! I wasn't laughing at you," Granger said. She pulled on his shoulder to get him to face her again. She was quite a bit closer to him and Marcus' heart began to beat faster. "I was laughing because the Arithmantic equations to match people were mine. I worked on them for six months solid and ran them against every test I could. Even if I _could_ petition for someone else, I wouldn't want to. According to magic, you're my perfect match." She smiled up at him then and Marcus recognized that the heat he was feeling was desire.

"Perfect match?" Marcus asked.

Granger nodded. "I triple checked when I figured out it was going to be you. I wasn't even upset, I just wanted to be sure."

Marcus flinched at her words. "How could you not be upset? You should be with someone like you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Granger asked, scooting away from him and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Someone beautiful. Someone not tainted by a past. Someone not stupid enough to have to repeat his seventh year at Hogwarts," Marcus said. What did she think he meant?

"But none of those things matter," Granger said. She moved closer, kneeling on the sofa now and placed a hand on his cheek, turning his face so she could see his eyes. "What matters is what's in your heart. Your magic and my magic were meant to be. That's what those Arithmantic equations mean. They find your perfect match. You didn't have anyone else on your list and neither did I."

Marcus looked up at her then, her brilliant brown eyes were shining down on him with such hopefulness that he couldn't stop himself from leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. He started to pull away, embarrassed by his actions when she followed his lips with her own. She slipped and landed awkwardly in his lap.

"Sorry," she murmured. She was half-lying in his lap, propping herself up against the armrest and had her lower lip between her teeth.

"I'm not," Marcus said, pressing another kiss to her lips. They were soft and inviting and he couldn't seem to stop himself. When she opened his mouth under him, he groaned and slipped a hand behind her head, holding her to him. Another hand went to her waist and he pulled until she was straddling him. She rolled her hips and Marcus' half-hard cock went to full mast so quickly he felt dizzy.

He breathed heavily, breaking the kiss and pressing his forehead against hers.

"You alright?" she asked him softly, her hand caressing his face. He leaned into the touch. The only times he was touched these days was on the Quidditch pitch and his eyes fluttered closed at the pleasure of it.

"Yeah," he said after a moment, licking his lips and opening his eyes. She was staring at him so frankly that he wanted to close them again.

"I think this is going to work out in the end, Marcus," she murmured her lips quirking up in a small smile.

"Yeah," Marcus said returning the smile and pressing his lips to hers again. He'd do anything to keep her in his life now.

 _~Fin~_


	12. Raising Hell

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in March 2019. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Hermione/Harry. I got to choose my trope, but did a Wheel Decide (seriously the best thing ever) and it chose Time Travel for me! No beta other than Grammarly. I will be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words. Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

* * *

 **Raising Hell**

* * *

"Are we actually doing this?" Harry asked, looking around the carnage that was Hogwarts.

"What option do we have?" Hermione hissed, gritting her teeth. They were gone, everyone was gone. Sure, Tom Riddle was gone too, but so was everyone else. It was just Hermione and Harry left. They hadn't been to the Ministry, but it seemed as if everyone in the wizarding world was dead. The concussive blast of Hermione's shield charm killed the entire battlefield.

"How far back?" Harry asked as Hermione looped the chain of the Time-Turner over his head. She stumbled on some debris underfoot and looked down as Harry steadied her by placing his hands on her hips. Her heart beat rapidly, but all she could see was the severed hand under her foot. She couldn't think about the implications of Harry's hands because the only thing in her field of vision was that bloodied stump.

"Hermione," Harry asked, tilting her head up with a finger under the chin to look at him. Her eyes were wide and she took a deep breath as the calm in Harry's eyes calmed her. "How far back?"

"W-Would you like to see your parents again?" Hermione asked. "We could go back to the late '70s. Get rid of all the Horcruxes and kill Voldemort before he gets to your parents."

Harry swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. Hermione's eyes flicked down to watch it, then to his lips, and finally to his eyes. She knew the idea was tempting. It was so very tempting.

"What if we go further back?" Harry asked.

"Do we kill baby Hitler?" Hermione responded. "I don't know."

Harry shook his head, not understanding. Hermione explained, "It's a thought experiment, except it doesn't have to be. If you could go back in time and kill baby Hitler, would you? If you say yes, good God, you're a baby killer. If you say no, but it's Hitler! Either way…"

"A catch twenty-two," Harry mused.

"We don't have to kill him," Hermione said. "We could go back far enough to adopt him."

"Raise him as our own." Harry gazed down at her, contemplating the idea.

"Guide him to become the great wizard he could be instead of the terrible one he was," Hermione whispered, suddenly caught by the idea of molding Tom Riddle in her own image.

"He'd still rival Dumbledore," Harry cautioned.

"Because Dumbledore's 'Greater Good' was such a good policy?" Hermione snorted. "Besides, we'd have the benefit of precognition."

Harry bit his lip and looked away, across the ruined school that held all of his happiest memories. "Let's do it."

"Alright," Hermione agreed calmly. She did the math in her head. Tom Riddle was born in 1926, they would have to travel back seventy-two years. "We aren't prepared," she said suddenly, shaking her head and going to remove the Time-Turner from around their necks. There was so much to do, to figure out before traveling back so far...

Harry stilled her hands before she could remove the chain from their necks. "There's no time. We do it now, knowing we're never coming back here."

Hermione looked up at him, trusting that he would be with her through it all. She turned back to the Time-Turner and made the requisite calculations, moving the rings precisely. Barely breathing as she worked. Harry's hands were warm on her wrists.

"Do it," Harry whispered, holding her to him tightly, wrapping his strong arms around her. Just as she let the pin fall and the rings spin, Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

 _ **~Fin~**_


	13. Little Red and the Wood Cutter

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in May 2019. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Hermione/Neville, Potions Accident, and Fairytale. This month we were charged with writing a crack!fic. Mine may have turned more horror than crack...? I dunno, I'm bad at crack, you decide.**

 **No beta other than Grammarly. I will be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words. Although this one turned into a proper one-shot. Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

* * *

 **Little Red and the Wood Cutter**

* * *

"Neville, no!" Hermione shouted she reached across the table, attempting to knock the knotweed out of Neville's hand before he added it to their Dreamless Sleep potion, but she wasn't fast enough. A puff of lavender smoke drifted up from the roiling red potion and a small boom flattened Hermione and Neville both to the ground. Hermione's head hit the stone floor of the dungeon rather hard and when she opened her eyes, she found she wasn't in the dungeon anymore.

She was near the edge of a forest, a thin layer of green-colored fog hung low to the ground. Hermione sat up slowly and rubbed the back of her head where she'd hit the floor. She looked around for anyone familiar, but she was all alone.

"Merlin, what in the hell has Neville done now?" she groused to herself as she stood on wobbly legs. That's when she noticed the red-cape tied around her shoulders. A hood hung down her back. What sort of potion changed someone's clothes? Or maybe this wasn't the potion at all, but the result of her head injury?

Hermione groaned and rubbed the goose egg on the back of her head once more. Her head was truly pounding now when she heard a rustling behind her. Whirling around she saw Madam Hooch striding her way with a basket in her hands.

"There you are Little Red Riding Hood!" Madam Hooch shouted, making Hermione's head ache all the more. "You've forgotten your basket. I think you'd forget your head if it wasn't attached to your body."

"M-Madam Hooch?" Hermione grimaced and squinted at the other witch. She was dressed in a medieval type dress with a drab, brown cloak around her shoulders.

"No idea what you're talking about, girl, usually you just call me mother," Madam Hooch insisted, shoving the basket into Hermione's hands. "Now, get that to your grandmothers before it gets dark. I don't expect you back until tomorrow. There are wolves in those woods and you don't want to get caught by one."

"Right," Hermione shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. How was it possible that she ended up here? Or was this just a concussive nightmare?

"And don't forget, talk to nobody on your way!" Madam Hooch shouted as she turned Hermione around by her shoulders. She gave her a shove in the back and Hermione stumbled forward onto the small path at the edge of the woods. "Careful, now!"

Hermione nodded and kept going. Perhaps if she finished the story out, she would wake up? It was as valid an idea as any, so Hermione walked.

The woods were dense and hardly any of the sun, which was already covered in clouds, filtered through the thick layer of trees. The further Hermione walked, the more her hair stood up on end. She felt as though she was being watched, but every time she turned around, nobody else was there. The birds were still singing and she could hear the occasional animal in the undergrowth, so whoever it was, they weren't a predator.

She'd been walking for at least an hour when she began to hear the sound of someone chopping wood. It was low at first, a dull thud here or there, but the further she walked, the louder it got until she could hear whoever it was grunting with exertion. She rounded a bend in the trail and there was a sight that Hermione was sure she'd never get out of her mind.

Neville was chopping wood. His shirt was off and tucked into his trousers, his bare chest was glistening with sweat and when his muscles rippled under his skin, Hermione moaned and was sure that was drool slipping out of her mouth. When in the world had Neville grown up? His face looked the same, but Merlin, his body. Hermione's nipples tightened in response to what she was seeing and she almost dropped the basket looped through her arm when he raised the ax above his head once more and brought it down swiftly onto the log before him.

"Neville?" Hermione finally said. Madam Hooch hadn't recognized her, but Neville had been part of the potions accident. If this was a result of the potions accident, hopefully, Neville would recognize her. If it was some nightmare of her own creation...well, perhaps she would need to start seeing Neville in a different light.

"Oh, Merlin, Hermione!" Neville dropped the ax when he saw her. He took a few steps, but couldn't move out of the small clearing he was in. Hermione hurried toward him.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, looking around.

"I could ask you the same thing. Are we…" he trailed off and shook his head.

"It must be a side-effect of the potion," Hermione explained.

"I'm sorry," Neville said, hanging his head.

"Don't be," Hermione replied. She reached out and touched his arm with her hand, a spark igniting through her fingertips and up her arm. She gasped at the feel of it, but couldn't bring herself to move her hand from his well-muscled arm.

Neville's eyes darkened as he peered down at her. His chest heaving still from his exertion with chopping the wood.

"You're the wood cutter," Hermione muttered.

"What?" Neville asked, cocking his head to one side.

"It's a Muggle fairytale. I have no idea how we ended up _inside_ it though. Little Red Riding Hood. Do you know it?"

Neville shook his head. "Tell it to me."

"Basically, Little Red Riding Hood goes through the forest to visit her sick grandmother. A wolf accosts her and runs ahead to her grandmother's cottage. In some versions, he eats the grandmother, in others, the grandmother hides. When Red Riding Hood happens upon the cottage, the wolf attacks her. She runs away and a wood cutter comes and saves her from the wolf. Again, in the version where Grandmother is eaten, the wood cutter cuts open the wolves belly and saves Grandmother. In other versions, the wolf just runs away to never be seen again."

"That would be why I can't leave the clearing then," Neville said. "I must not be able to leave until it's time to save you."

"Madam Hooch was my mother," Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. "The most un-motherly woman I could think of."

"Who will the wolf be?" Neville asked with some concern.

Hermione shook her head. "Or Grandmother? I don't know."

"You'll have to keep going," Neville urged. "The faster we're through the story, hopefully, we'll wake up or the potion will wear off or whatever."

"I hope this is the version where Grandmother hides," Hermione muttered as she turned back to the trail. She missed Neville shuddering in distaste behind her.

"Me too," he agreed, watching her go. "Be careful, Hermione."

She waved her hand at him and continued on her way. The strange green fog from earlier seemed to thicken the further she got into the woods. The feeling of being followed grew stronger as the sound of Neville's chopping grew distant. Hermione's steps increased, her pulse thrummed in her ears until she was practically running.

"Why so fast, girl," a silky voice, hissed from in front of her.

Hermione stopped in her tracks to see a wolf step out onto the path before her. A wolf that looked suspiciously similar to Professor Snape.

"I am in a hurry," Hermione replied. "Please let me pass."

"And where is such a delicious morsel like you off to?" the wolf asked, leering at her. Hermione shuddered beneath his stare but stood her ground. She knew how the story was supposed to go. All she had to do was follow along and hopefully come out on the other side of it alive, awake, and in Hogwarts. She wasn't even certain she was dreaming. It was all so confusing.

"My grandmother is ill. I'm taking her some food," Hermione answered.

"Ah, what a good granddaughter you are," the wolf sneered. It was eerie hearing Professor Snape's voice out of the huge beast before her. "And your grandmother lives here? In these woods?" The wolf was practically salivating and Hermione shivered.

"At the end of the path," she whispered. She had tried to stop herself from saying it, but it seemed that _something_ was keeping her on track. Probably the same thing that kept Neville in his clearing.

The wolf grinned lewdly and bounded away into the woods. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief that he was no longer before her, but was terrified about what was to come. This certainly seemed like the darker version of this tale.

It was another hour before she reached the cottage that she knew in her bones was her grandmother's. She bit her lip, knowing what was to come, but unable to stop herself from entering the cottage anyway.

"Grandmother!" she shouted the moment the door was shut.

"In the bedroom, dear," a scratchy voice that sounded distinctly _not_ like her grandmother answered. Hermione tried to turn around. She tried to open the door behind her, but her body didn't cooperate with her mind. Her feet strode swiftly forward to the bedroom at the back of the cottage.

She knew it wasn't her grandmother in the bed, but the wolf did look surprisingly similar. It was an interesting observation. Hermione had always thought that the story of Little Red Riding Hood was silly. How could a wolf look like a grandmother? But here she was, knowing it was a wolf, but shocked to see her grandmother. Who also seemed to resemble Professor McGonagall? Professor Snape, imitating a wolf, imitating Professor McGonagall, imitating Red Riding Hood's grandmother. It was all very confusing.

"I've brought you some dinner, Grandmother," Hermione said, willing her feet to stay near the door.

"Come closer, my child," Grandmother beckoned. Hermione tried to not move, but the story was going to have its way with her and she found herself standing too close to the bed.

"My, what big eyes you have, Grandmother," Hermione's voice said, seemingly of its own volition. But now that she'd said it, all she could see was those huge, black eyes that so resembled Snape's staring at her.

"All the better to _see_ you with, my dear."

"And what sharp teeth you have," Hermione commented, unable to tear her eyes away from the wolf's teeth.

"All the better to _eat_ you with," the wolf growled, leaping out of bed and onto Hermione. He knocked her down hard and now all Hermione could see was the strange wolf-Snape combination above her. She screamed as loud as she could, hoping Neville could hear her as she pushed at the wolf, attempting to dislodge it.

She got a good kick in and was scrambling to her feet when the door to the cottage burst open and a shirtless Neville strode through it, his ax already raised.

"P-Professor Snape!" Neville squeaked upon seeing who the wolf was.

"Now Neville!" Hermione screamed as she stumbled forward. The wolf-Snape hybrid caught her by the back of her knees and she hit the floor hard again. That seemed to jolt Neville out of his stupor and he strode forward, lifting his ax above his head.

"Let her go!" Neville shouted.

"Never!" the wolf growled, licking up Hermione's exposed calf.

THUNK!

Neville swung the ax down hard, directly into the back of the wolf's head.

Hermione cried out as she felt the spray of blood and brains over her back and she scurried forward from beneath the heavy body of the wolf. The wolf had fully changed into Professor Snape and Hermione stared in horror.

"What have I done?" Neville whispered, shaking. He grabbed Hermione by the arm and pulled her to him as Snape's body shuddered one last time.

"Oh, Merlin, Neville," Hermione whispered in shock.

"Well, I can't say I'm unhappy about it," a sharp voice said from behind them.

Hermione whirled around to see Professor McGonagall moonlighting as her grandmother standing in the doorway.

"Grandmother!" Hermione cried and stumbled forward into her arms.

"I'm glad you weren't harmed, child. That wolf has been stalking these woods for long enough. Your wood cutter did us a great service," McGonagall said, patting Hermione's back.

"I-I didn't mean to," Neville whispered, looking back and forth between Hermione and her grandmother and the dead wolf on the floor.

"Nonsense, he needed to go. It was his time. You are a hero, young man." McGonagall strode forward and patted Neville's bare shoulder as she passed him. She grasped the back of Snape's neck, lifting him up for Hermione and Neville to see his face. Hermione recoiled and Neville, pulled her into his side again, allowing her to bury her face into his chest.

"He'll make a nice throw rug, won't he?" McGonagall grinned. Hermione couldn't bear to look and kept her eyes closed, her head against Neville's firm, bare chest.

...

"Miss Granger!" a sharp voice near Hermione's ear shouted.

Hermione bolted up in the bed was in only to find she wasn't alone in the bed.

"Oof," Neville grunted as Hermione's elbow landed on his bare, well-muscled chest. Hermione turned bright red. She and Neville were in the hospital wing, as was Professor Snape, who thankfully did _not_ have a large ax wound in the back of his head. Madam Pomfrey stood over her, looking disappointed.

"Uh," Hermione didn't feel very articulate, she wasn't sure what happened.

"Next time you want to go experimenting with potions Miss Granger, I suggest you _do not_ experiment with Dreamless Sleep! It's highly addictive and dangerous. Lucky for you that only you, Mr Longbottom, and Professor Snape were dosed. Now get out of my hospital wing," Madam Pomfrey hissed.

Hermione scrambled up and out of the bed, hurrying out of the hospital wing and into the corridor. She didn't even bother to correct Madam Pomfrey, the entire ordeal had been so embarrassing.

"Hermione! Wait!" Neville shouted from behind her, bringing her to a stop.

"Sorry, Neville," Hermione muttered and felt her cheeks heat again when she realized he was still shirtless. "Where is your shirt?" she said sharper than she meant.

Neville shrugged. "I'm not sure," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. The action made every muscle in his chest bunch and move and Hermione's breath came in pants before she dropped her gaze to the floor between them.

"And I'm sorry," Neville said. "It was my fault. No idea why Pomfrey thought it was yours. I told her, though, when you left that it was my fault. I suspect she was angry at you for climbing into my bed."

"I climbed into your bed?" Hermione whispered as mortification flooded her body. Could today get any worse? She backed away from Neville and her back hit the corridor wall, but before she could slide down it and bury her head into her knees, Neville stepped closer to her and placed a hand on her cheek, lifting her gaze to his. She could feel her cheeks burn in embarrassment and wasn't surprised to see Neville's face was also ablaze.

"I didn't mind it," Neville murmured with a small shrug, reminding Hermione once more that he wasn't wearing a shirt. "I think I kind of liked it."

Hermione gasped as his thumb traced along her jaw.

"Did you like it?" he whispered, his face just inches from hers. Hermione nodded. Merlin, she _had_ liked it. Neville was fit and as embarrassed as she was to see him without his shirt it wasn't because she didn't like it, it was because she liked it _too_ much. Neville didn't say anything else, he just pressed his lips to hers in a searing kiss.

 _ **~Fin~**_


	14. Clean

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in June 2019. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Hermione/George and Fake Dating.**

 **No beta other than Grammarly. I will be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words. Although this one turned into a proper one-shot. Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

* * *

 **Clean**

* * *

"Please, Granger," George whispered urgently in Hermione's ear. His breath was hot and stank of Firewhisky. He leaned heavily against her shoulder and Hermione grunted under his weight, trying to keep her feet beneath her. She leaned her back against the wall behind her. "Ginny'll kill me if I show up drunk and Angelina… she'll kill me if I don't show up at all. Please," he begged.

"So, what? You're going to use me to keep yourself sober?" Hermione hissed. "This isn't healthy, George!"

"No… well yes," he admitted, looking sheepish and avoiding her gaze, even as he leaned against her more heavily. "But also as my date. We can tell everyone we just started."

"You mean lie to our friends and family?" Hermione asked. She had felt sorry for George, he'd been having a rough go of it for the last four years. The first couple of years after the war, he'd seemed to bounce back, but as Hermione suspected at the time, he was just compensating with booze and drugs. Now, six years after the war, he was a mess. The only reason his shop wasn't in shambles was because Ron had stepped up two years ago to help him run it. The same time Hermione had stepped in to try and help George get clean.

"H'mione," George slurred. "Doesn't have to be a lie." His hand landed heavily on her hip and Hermione bit her lip hard. He was drunk and probably high too. She shoved him off of her and into the wall.

"Prove to me that you can be sober on your own," she countered. "I'll go with you to Ginny and Angelina's wedding if you can prove to me that you can stay sober of your own accord."

George groaned. "But the wedding's in six weeks."

"Plenty of time to sober up," Hermione said. "Do it on your own and I'll go to the wedding with you. Tell everyone that we're dating."

"Can't," George mumbled. "I've tried. I _can't_ do it on my own."

Hermione sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "That's just it, George. Only _you_ can help you. Mungo's has a rehab program I can probably get you in, but it's only for three weeks. After that, you'd be on your own and if you don't want it bad enough, you're going to be like this for the rest of your very short life."

"It'd be worth it though," George said. "I'd be with Fred then."

Tears pricked at Hermione's eyes. George was her friend, he probably could have been more than her friend if it weren't for his addictions, but it was getting increasingly difficult to watch him slowly kill himself.

"I'm not going to help you with this," Hermione said, her voice hoarse as she tried to keep her emotions in check. She swiped at the tears on her cheeks with the back of her hands. "I can't keep trying to help you with this. It'll kill me to watch you do this to yourself and I'd rather not be here for it."

There it was, the truth she'd been holding back for the last two years while she had tried to help George. She'd sat with him as he tried going sober, through his shakes, and detox. Only to find him high or drunk or both a few weeks later. Strung out on the couch of the flat he had shared with Fred, clutching a photo of Fred. The cycle repeated itself over and over again until Hermione had washed her hands of it all a month ago.

George though, couldn't seem to leave her alone. He had sought her out at her favorite pub in Knockturn Alley. She liked it because it was hard to get to, and people left her alone there. And none of her friends frequented it. But George knew about it. Because he knew more about her than any of her other friends.

"Hermione." He finally pulled his eyes up and they landed on her heavily. They were red-rimmed and bloodshot, the clear-blue they should have been was muddled and unfocused. "I promise. I'll do it this time."

"You better, George Fabian Weasley. I won't… I can't…" Hermione broke off, horrified as a sob rose out of her throat.

"Fuck," George muttered and yanked her into his chest, holding her against him as she cried. "Sorry, so sorry," he whispered into her hair, running his hand the length of her back.

After a long moment, she pulled herself together. "I'll see you in six weeks," she said. "Look for my owl tomorrow on details for the rehab at Mungo's."

George nodded, tired, his eyes slipping closed for a long moment, still leaning against the outer wall of the pub. Hermione left him there. He was a big boy and had managed to stumble himself home many times through the alleys. She couldn't give him everything while he was on this self-destructive spiral. She had to protect herself or she'd lose herself as surely as George had lost himself.

* * *

 _Six Weeks Later_

Hermione transferred her weight nervously from foot to foot as she waited for George to come down to the shop. She hadn't seen him for six weeks. She hadn't seen any of her friends for six weeks, she didn't want to hear about his progress. She couldn't. She could only hope that he was clean. That she would see those blue eyes clear and refreshed looking. Verity smiled at her encouragingly, which at least had Hermione's hopes up. Ron had grinned at her but said nothing as he left the shop to go pick up his own date.

Finally, the door at the top of the stairs opened and George hurried out of it. He bounded down the stairs with an energy that Hermione hadn't seen in years.

"Hi," he said, smiling softly at her. "You look good."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. George looked… clean. His face was clean-shaven, his eyes clear, and dancing with mischief. His hair was freshly cut. He looked like he did that last year of the war. Before Fred died.

"George," Hermione nodded at him, smiling softly.

George laughed and pulled her into a hug. "Thank you," he whispered into her hair. "Not just for today, but for pushing me to get clean. I know you've been trying for two years and I've been stubborn, but still, thank you."

"I just want you to be happy," Hermione said into his chest. She pressed her forehead against him and breathed in his clean, freshly showered scent. Her heart fluttered and she calmly reminded herself that they were friends and that today was a fake date. She pulled away and smiled up at him.

"Let's go watch my ex marry my sister," George said, grinning down at her.

"Alright," Hermione said, unable to keep the smile from her face. George grasped her hand tightly and Apparated them to the Burrow where the wedding would be taking place.

He kept ahold of her hand as he waltzed them through the front gate and the wards. He held her hand through the ceremony and reception afterward. Blythly telling anyone who asked that they had been dating for the last six weeks. Sending cheeky winks Hermione's way. She pursed her lips at his antics to hide her smile.

When they danced under the stars, he held her close and for a long moment, Hermione could almost believe that this was a real date. She tried to scold herself, tried to hold herself apart, to not get wrapped up in what wasn't real, but it felt good, being in George's arms. His hand on her lower back both ignited a fire in her and felt comfortable, normal, natural, like it belonged there.

"Knut for your thoughts?" George said, interrupting her musings. His voice was low, and the timber made Hermione shiver.

"Just enjoying the night air," Hermione said, willing her heart to beat slower and unwilling to meet his gaze. He dropped her right and pushed her chin up with a finger.

He studied her face so intently that Hermione found herself holding her breath. "I'm going to kiss you now," George whispered, his head lowering toward hers.

"Only if you mean it," Hermione begged, closing her eyes, unable to look at him as the words slipped out her mouth unbidden.

That made him stop short, though Hermione could feel his breath on her face. "Did you want this to be a real date, Hermione?"

She bit her lip and nodded, just as an embarrassed tear slipped from her closed left eye. "I'm sorry—" she started to say before she found her lips covered with his. The low-level fire that had been burning in her abdomen as they danced roared to life as his lips slanted over hers. The hand that had pushed her chin up, was now cradling the back of her head, tilting it further back so he could plunder her mouth more thoroughly. Hermione gasped when his other hand yanked her closer and their pelvises connected. She could feel _him_ through her dress as he pressed against her lower belly.

After a long moment, and the most mind-blowing kiss Hermione had ever had, he pulled back. There was a lazy, dopey grin on his face, and his eyes were half-lidded. "That's a better drug than anything else I've ever tried."

Hermione blushed and opened her mouth to scold him. He couldn't replace drugs with her. But she didn't get the chance, as he delved back in for another kiss. Hermione was breathless to hold on. This was what she had wanted for the last two years, and while she knew that getting involved with an addict was ill-advised, she was at least trying to be clear-headed about it.

"Don't worry," George murmured into her ear after he'd kissed his way along her jaw. "I'm not replacing my drugs with you. I know you don't want an addict for a boyfriend. But, I promise to be clean, for me first. For Fred second. He…" George trailed off dropping his head into her shoulder.

"Would be so proud of you for how far you've come," Hermione said into his ear as she combed her fingers through the hair at the back of his head. "He would be so pleased to see you overcome your demons, George."

George nodded against her shoulder, placing a kiss against the side of her neck. "Come back to mine, tonight?"

Hermione nodded, happy and apprehensive about the future, but hopeful.

 ** _~Fin~_**


	15. Benediction

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in July 2019. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Hermione/Theo/Luna and Marriage Law.**

 **No beta other than Grammarly. I will be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words. Although this one turned into a proper one-shot. Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

* * *

 **Benediction**

* * *

Hermione sighed as she read the letter from the Ministry again. The entirety of the Marriage Law was bollocks, of course, but it was either comply or have her wand snapped and Obliviated. She took a deep breath, setting the missive on the kitchen counter, and hunched her back.

"It's not so bad," Luna said softly, placing her hand on Hermione's shoulder. Hermione smiled at her wife, swallowing the lump in her throat. It had taken her and Luna years to find each other, and now at thirty, she was finally happy, finally a peace. Luna's soft, blue eyes sparkled and Hermione felt like she could get lost in them.

"I won't have you to myself," Hermione said, looking down, swiping at the tear that threatened to fall from her right eye.

"You'll _always_ have me," Luna murmured, wrapping her arm around Hermione's shoulders. She held Hermione, rocking them gently. "You'll just have Theo too." Hermione buried her face into Luna's neck, breathing in the light floral scent of her wife. She would never get sick of this.

Hermione nodded, willing her tears away. Tears weren't going to do anything but give her a headache later. At least it was Theo, dear, sweet Theo.

"And think how much worse it must be for him," Luna murmured, stepping away. "Coming into our marriage as an outsider."

"Oh, Merlin. I hadn't even thought," Hermione replied, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. She'd been so worried about her and Luna that it hadn't occurred to her to worry about Theo too. And, of course, she was worried about Theo. He was one of their dearest friends. "We should owl him. Invite him over," she said decisively.

"Yes," Luna agreed. "Let's discuss this like adults. I can make my paella."

Hermione hummed. "I love your paella."

Luna leaned forward, cupping Hermione's face and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Hermione mewled and yanked Luna forward, plastering herself against her wife. She had one hand at the back of Luna's head, guiding the kiss and dropped the other to Luna's breast. Hermione loved Luna's breasts. She rarely wore a bra and the instant access to nipple had Hermione's core clenching in desire.

Hermione slid her lips down the column of Luna's throat as Luna tipped her head back to allow access.

"We should stop," Luna groaned when Hermione licked up her neck and bit her earlobe. "We should—"

"Shut up," Hermione muttered. "The owl can wait." She helped Luna lift herself up onto the kitchen counter and pushed Luna's flowing dress up her legs. Luna lifted her arse and the dress fluttered around her hips, still hiding her quim. Another thing Hermione loved about Luna, no bra, no knickers, long flowing dresses. She was feminine and beautiful and always ready. It had taken Hermione more years than she wanted to admit to finally cave to her sexual desires.

Luna pushed her dress off her shoulders and Hermione leaned down to lick first one nipple, then the other. She sucked the flesh into her mouth, and it pebbled hard beneath her ministrations. Luna's head was tossed back against the upper cabinets and Hermione trailed her free hand up Luna's bare leg, skipping her mound entirely.

"Hermione, please," Luna groaned when Hermione switched breasts and tickled her fingers past Luna's quim for the third time. "Stop teasing."

Hermione grinned and pulled off Luna's nipple with a pop. "Alright then." Bending down, she lifted Luna's dress over her head and spread her legs. She gave her a long lick from arse to clit as Luna wailed above her. Hermione had her own hand shoved down her trousers and in her knickers as she made Luna scream. She timed the movements between both hands, plunging into both herself and Luna at the same time. Twirling her tongue around Luna's clit and rubbing the front wall. Hermione couldn't quite reach her own front wall the right way, but she did the best she could as Luna's hands dove through Hermione's hair, holding her in place.

"Hermione!" Luna shouted, coming hard, bucking against Hermione's mouth. Hermione's pace didn't stop, didn't ease until she too tipped over the edge. Luna whined, and Hermione removed her hand from Luna's core, dipping her tongue inside, over and over again, tasting her wife. She thumbed Luna's clit as she fucked her with her tongue, and it wasn't long before Luna was coming again. Her shout louder and her legs tightening around Hermione's shoulders.

Hermione finally lifted her head, pulling Luna's dress off of it, and grinned at Luna. Luna narrowed her eyes and pulled Hermione close, kissing her deeply, tasting herself on Hermione.

"Fucking love you," Hermione murmured between kisses.

* * *

Theo stared at the missive from the Ministry in something like shock. How was he supposed to join the most perfect marriage of his two dearest friends? They didn't even _like_ wizards! And he was supposed to marry them, breed them? It was...it was barbaric and Theo wanted nothing to do with it.

An owl pecked at the window of his study and Theo waved his hand, allowing it to enter. It was Luna and Hermione's owl and he swallowed a lump in his throat. He tried to console himself that at least he wasn't technically breaking up their marriage. He was just joining it. But Luna and Hermione were _perfect_ together, _perfect_ for each other and Theo couldn't imagine what they must be feeling, knowing they had to let a wizard in.

The owl was short, signed by Hermione, inviting him over for dinner. He gulped again as nerves fluttered in his stomach. Maybe he should just go through with snapping his wand and getting Obliviated. But then he thought of the Ministry assigning some other wizard to Hermione and Luna and Theo knew he couldn't do that to them. At least he understood them, understood their relationship, and what they meant to each other. He had never planned to marry, never even been in a long-term relationship. He could take a backseat to Hermione and Luna. He could allow them to have their marriage.

Nodding, Theo was decided and wrote a quick reply to Hermione, confirming his attendance for dinner. He desperately wanted a drink, but he knew that neither Hermione nor Luna would appreciate him showing up drunk. Well, perhaps he'd have a small drink, just to steady his nerves. They couldn't begrudge him that. Decided Theo poured himself a hefty drink and sat back in his desk chair, waiting until it was closer to dinner time and he could Floo over.

* * *

"More paella, Theo?" Luna asked sweetly, gesturing to the dish in the center of the table. Theo shook his head.

"Thank you, no," he replied. "So delicious though." He'd managed to not be drunk when he showed up at Luna and Hermione's, but he was pleasantly buzzed.

"Let's retire to the sitting room," Hermione said. Even Theo could tell that her voice was falsely cheerful. Luna nodded and flicked her wand, clearing the table in a moment. Theo stumbled as he stood and gripped the table to keep his feet. He missed the look Hermione and Luna exchanged as he followed Hermione from the dining room to the sitting room of their small cottage.

"Here," Luna said nonchalantly, handing Theo a potion bottle once the three of them had arranged themselves on Hermione and Luna's wicker furniture. Hermione and Luna sat next to one another on the couch, Hermione's hand twisted into both of Luna's. Theo sat opposite them in an armchair.

"What's this?" Theo asked, proud that he managed the phrase without slurring.

"It's Sober-Up," Hermione said gently. "Give you a clear head before we discuss particulars."

Theo groaned, and part of him wanted to refuse, but he knew they were right. And he hated himself for having gotten so drunk. Noticeably drunk. When had that happened?

"Theo," Luna said kindly.

Theo nodded and downed the potion. He grimaced as his hangover hit for a few minutes before the potion worked its way through his system and cleared that too.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"We're going to have to talk about it," Hermione said. "But we can put it off for a bit, I think."

Theo nodded. He knew they would have a problem with his drinking. Frankly, _he_ had a problem with his drinking, but he couldn't seem to manage to stop it himself.

"No, I'm sorry," Theo said. "You don't deserve this, either of you. I should just let them Obliviate me."

"No!" Luna's voice was more forceful than Theo had ever heard it. "No. We won't let you get Obliviated. The Marriage Law was never going to be ideal, but don't you see, Theo? Hermione and I could have done worse than you. They could have made us divorce entirely, but they didn't. And then they gave us you."

Theo swallowed hard. Luna's words were sweet, but he still didn't.

"Theo," Hermione said, "look at me."

Theo looked up from where he'd been studying his shoes to see Hermione looking at him with such open honesty that his heart stopped in his chest. He had always known that Luna would accept him regardless. It was Hermione who was always going to be the trouble. Forceful, bossy, ambitious Hermione. All the traits that Theo loved about her, would be what kept him apart when the three of them were finally married.

"We want _you_. We've discussed it and the Ministry could have done so much worse. So we choose you. We don't want you to play the third wheel, just because Luna and I were together first. We don't want you to ever feel like you are second fiddle. What kind of life would that be? We choose you. But you need to choose us too. You need to commit whole-heartedly."

"Yes," Theo said quickly. It was more than he could have hoped for. "Yes, I'll commit to anything, truly. I don't want the Ministry to choose someone different for you. Your marriage is so beautiful, your relationship so perfect, I don't want anyone else fucking that up."

"Our relationship," Luna said. "You're part of this too. You need to be part of this."

"Yes," Theo said again. He stumbled forward out of the chair and kneeled before both of them. "Our relationship. It's more than I hoped. I—"

"Shhh," Hermione murmured, cupping his face. He leaned forward into her hand as his eyes fluttered closed. It felt like benediction. Soft lips pressed against his own and Theo groaned. They tasted like Luna and was unsurprised when he opened his eyes to see that's who it was. Hermione looked on, her hand still on his cheek as she pushed him toward her wife. Luna nipped at his lower lip and his eyes slid closed once more. He kept his hands at his sides, afraid to touch either of them in case this dream disappeared.

"Theo," Hermione sighed and her hand left his cheek, sliding down his neck and shoulder, pulling him forward. His heart beat so fast in his chest, but he didn't want to make a mistake, didn't want to scare either of them away when Hermione seemed to grow tired of his timidness. She pushed his shoulder hard, making him fall back onto his bum. Then as one, she and Luna joined him on the floor. Luna next to him, pressing her lips to his again and Hermione straddled his thighs. He concentrated on Luna's kisses, enjoying the mewls of pleasure she was giving. So focused was he that he missed Hermione working on his trousers. He gasped as she swallowed his cock, pulling away from Luna and arching his back at the sudden sensation.

"Yeah, Hermione's like that," Luna said lightly, running her hands over his shoulders. "Bold as brass and goes for what she wants."

"Fuck," Theo grunted. "Feels—"

"It took Hermione a long time to admit that she likes witches as much as she likes wizards," Luna explained. "She's had a lot of practice. And you know how she loves to excel at everything she does."

"Definitely excelling," Theo muttered, gritting his teeth. He reached a hand down toward Hermione's head and tugged on her hair. "Going to come if you keep that up."

She pulled off of him with a pop and grinned. "Good. We have plenty of time."

Theo groaned, dropping his head back to the floor as she swirled her tongue around him.

"Do you mind?" Luna asked, and Theo opened his eyes to see her completely naked beside him. She swung a leg over his shoulders, facing Hermione, her core perched just above his face. He watched Hermione's eyes darken as Luna lowered herself and Theo wrapped an arm around each of her thighs, swiftly bringing her dripping quim to his mouth. Luna's scream was well worth it as he worked his tongue in her. He reached a hand forward to play with her clit to find a hand already there, Hermione's he assumed. It batted him away, so Theo concentrated on eating Luna. She was shaking above him and when she came a gush of liquid squirted out of her. He licked it all up.

Hermione practically swallowed him then and Theo grunted. He tried to tell her he was coming, but with Luna still smothering him with her cunt, he couldn't get the words out. It was too much, feeling Luna's channel spasming just above his lips. Hermione's cheeks hollowed around his cock, her throat closing around him as she swallowed. His grunt vibrated against Luna and she ground down against him. He slipped his tongue out and began licking her again, the moment he caught his breath.

"Is he good?" he heard Hermione ask.

"Very," Luna breathed.

"Tastes good," Hermione said.

"Let me," Luna replied and then Theo could hear them kissing. Merlin, what he wouldn't give to see that. Instead, he kept licking Luna, reaching a hand forward and finding her little clit. He began rubbing it, trying to figure out what exactly she liked. She keened when he circled it, with just a hint more pressure on the left side, so he kept that pattern going until she was coming again, his tongue delving in and out of her as her channel clenched tightly.

"Fuck," Hermione muttered and eased Luna off of him. Theo watched as they both relaxed against the sofa, Hermione was still mostly dressed and Theo frowned. He sat up and began working her robes off of her.

"Your turn," he murmured against her neck, kissing each bit of skin as he revealed it.

"Mmm, yes," Luna murmured. "You took such good care of us, it's only fair we repay you."

Hermione smirked and pulled Luna in for a kiss. When she was good and distracted, Theo nipped at one of her nipples, causing her back to arch and her to cry out. It was a gorgeous site, Hermione giving in to her pleasure as she and Luna shared another kiss. Theo wanted to feel left out, but the site was so erotic that he found he was hard again.

"You should help him out with that," Luna murmured against Hermione's lips. Hermione opened her eyes to see Theo sporting a huge erection.

"You don't—" Theo stopped talking when Luna reached out and pulled on his cock, hard.

Hermione snorted. "Gentler, Luna," she admonished. "Like this." Hermione wrapped her hand around Luna's and the two of them began wanking him in a steady, slow stroke.

"Thought this was supposed to be about you," Theo grunted to Hermione.

"Oh, I am enjoying myself immensely," Hermione said. "Watching you come undone, watching you eat Luna's delectable quim… I assure you, I'm quite wet."

Luna snapped her fingers and the rest of Hermione's clothes disappeared, she slipped her free hand between Hermione's legs and suddenly Theo couldn't look at anything else.

"Mmm, you are," Luna confirmed and pulled her hand away. She licked the wetness she found there and Theo groaned. "I think he's ready for you."

Hermione pushed him to his back once more and straddled his hips again. Gripping his cock, she slid slowly down its length. Theo flexed his hips, trying to drive himself into her deeper.

"How's it feel?" Luna asked.

"Fucking amazing," Hermione and Theo said at the same time.

Luna giggled and placed one of Theo's hands on one of Hermione's breasts, and pulled the other to between her legs. She kneeled beside Hermione and Theo and pulled Hermione into a deep kiss. The stimulation of Hermione bouncing on his cock, the feeling of Luna's wetness dripping down his hand, Hermione's nipple pebbling beneath his fingers, and watching the two of them snog heavily was too much for Theo. He began pounding into Hermione from below, and she ground down on top of him, squeezing her inner muscles.

"Fuck!" Theo shouted as he came the second time that night. Hermione tipped over the edge moments later, her cunt almost strangling his slowly softening cock. Luna's hand joined his own and soon she was coming again too.

Several long moments later, Hermione spoke up. "If that's how our marriage is going to be, I think it's going to be very successful."

Luna hummed her agreement. She was lying on one side of Theo, with Hermione on the other, and they held hands over his stomach. He pulled them both tighter against him and kissed first Luna's head and then Hermione's. He'd deal with his alcoholism, he'd deal with his estate, hell, he'd even deal with his estranged father, if it meant he could keep both of these witches in his life.

 _ **~Fin~**_


	16. Happy Christmas

**A/N: Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Drabble Prompt in August 2019. My Roll-a-Drabble prompts were: Hermione/James and Meet Ugly.**

 **No beta other than Grammarly. I will be updating these for each month that I do them. They will have a variety of pairings, but all are starring Hermione. Ratings will be a solid M for curse words. And the goal is to be between 100-1k words. Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

* * *

 **Happy Christmas**

* * *

Hermione woke with a start as the siren blared again and again.

"What the bloody hell is that?"

She stumbled out of bed and toward her living room, where the noise was originating to see that the Floo alarm was going off.

" _Exit the building in an orderly manner_ ," a calm voice stated. It was loud and Hermione covered her ears with her hands.

"Merlin, who in the world did this?" she grumbled to herself as she looked for Crookshanks. If the building was going to go up in flames, she wasn't about to let her familiar go up with it. "Come on Crooks," Hermione muttered, scooping him up. She tossed her cloak over her shoulders and put her slippers on her feet before shuffling out of her flat. Several of her neighbors were in the hallway, and there was a queue to the stair door.

"If I find out who's responsible, I'm going to kill him with my bare hands," a voice grumbled from behind Hermione. She nodded, as several of her neighbors muttered their agreement. Hermione glanced at her watch to see that it read just past three in the morning. And on Christmas too.

She and the rest of her neighbors exited the building to find that it was snowing. There was already and inch or so on the ground, and more coming down quite heavily.

"The Ministry's been called," someone shouted as the exited the building. "We think it's just a false alarm and we'll have you all back inside shortly."

Hermione hoped so. She wrapped her cloak tighter around herself, cuddling Crookshanks closer when a spurt of laughter from the back of the crowd startled her. She turned around to find her upstairs neighbors giggling over something. One of them was dressed as Santa Claus. What did wizards know of Santa Claus?

Hermione shifted closer to the foursome, trying to figure out what was so funny.

"...arse sticking out of the Floo…" the tallest one, with sandy hair chortled.

"Not my fault…" the one dressed as Santa proclaimed, while the rest of his sentence was lost with the rush from the Ministry. Half a dozen wizards on safety brooms flew in, their sirens blaring almost as loudly as the Floo siren from the apartment building.

The Ministry officials rushed into the building and Hermione turned her attention back to her neighbors.

"...couldn't have, James. If only you—"

Whoever was talking stopped abruptly, and Hermione looked up from the street to suddenly found herself staring at the four men who lived in the flat directly above hers. Thank Godric for silencing charms, because the four of them were exceedingly loud, she'd found that out the first day she moved in.

"Help you?" said the best looking one. He had a leather coat draped over his shoulders and a Muggle cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His grey eyes were cold, although there were laugh lines around them.

"Just wondering who's fault it is that I'm out here freezing my arse off instead of warm in my bed," Hermione replied, narrowing her eyes at Santa. "I'm guessing your little prank at being Santa Claus didn't work so well, eh? Floo's don't work like Muggle fireplaces after all."

"If it's warmth you're looking for, perhaps I might be of help?" Santa Clause asked, draping his shoulder around Hermione's. She pursed her lips at him, and shrugged out of his embrace.

"Oh ho, James!" the shortest one crowed. "It's not often a bird turns down your advances."

"A _bird_? Seriously?" Hermione whirled around at him, ready to scold him for such inappropriate language.

"Nah, love, I'm Sirius," the good-looking one replied, replacing Santa's arm with his own. "And if you're looking for warmth…" he trailed off as he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"You look like you've just got in. Smell like it too," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose and taking a step back. She hefted Crookshanks in her arms, the old boy was getting heavy and her cloak slipped.

"Crooks!" Santa shouted, slipping an arm out to pet the ginger cat.

"You know my cat?" Hermione asked, shifting her feet and shaking her head, to get her hair out of her eyes since her arms were occupied.

"'Course we know Crooks," Sirius said with a smirk. "Shall I hold him for you."

"If he'll let you," Hermione replied dubiously. How in the world would these four know her cat?

"Crooks always comes out to play with us on full moons," the tall one said. "I'm Remus, by the by. That's James," he pointed at Santa, "and Peter," the shortest one, "and you know Sirius already because he's a shameless flirt."

"What were you attempting to set the entire Floo network off?" Hermione asked James as Sirius lifted Crookshanks out of her arms. She was surprised that her cat went to the wizard so easily but judging by his deep rumbling purrs, he was happy to be in Sirius's arms.

"Remus bet me that I couldn't be Muggle Santa Claus."

"How much did you win?" Hermione asked Remus, a smirk playing about her lips.

"Fifty Galleons," Remus replied. "Served him right too."

"Well, good thing that my fee to hold my cat and for getting me up at three in the morning on Christmas is also fifty Galleons," Hermione said, holding her hand out.

Sirius and James guffawed as Remus looked affronted. "Sirius is holding your cat, and technically it is James's fault."

"Ah, but you were the one who bet him." She smiled deviously up at Remus and laughed when he grumbled and passed over the purse of Galleons.

"Alright, folks! Sorry for the delay. Alarm's off, you all can go back to your flats now. Happy Christmas," a Ministry official shouted. Hermione turned to follow her neighbors but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"So, what do you want for Christmas, little girl?" James asked her, in his best impression of Santa's voice.

Hermione snorted. "A good night's sleep."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Sirius asked, hefting a purring and kneading Crookshanks.

"He looks comfortable with you," Hermione said with a smirk and turned to go back inside. She found herself at the back of the crowd, with just the four upstairs neighbors behind her.

She missed the by-play between the four roommates as Sirius gestured for James to follow her and Remus encouraged him.

Once she finally made her way to her third floor flat, Hermione turned to see if they had let Crooks follow her, but Crooks wasn't there, James was.

"Did you need something?" Hermione asked, arching one eyebrow.

James smirked at her and backed her into her flat door. "Just wanted to see if you tasted as good as you smelled," he murmured, just before placing a kiss on her lips.

Hermione stiffened, unsure of what to do, but his lips were soft and warm, and before she even realized what she was doing, she had her hands in his hair and her body pressed to his. James groaned as he trailed his lips down her jaw and breathed heavily into her ear.

"I'm auditioning for a Mrs Claus," he murmured, nipping at her earbud.

Hermione laughed and pushed him from her. "Happy Christmas," she said, smirking, then turned and let herself into her flat.

"I'll come to see you tomorrow!" James shouted after her, just before Hermione got the door closed.

 _ **~Fin~**_


End file.
